


Something's Missing

by roomiesforlife



Category: Boy Meets World, Girl Meets World
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boy Meets World References, Dreams, Episode: s7e20 As Time Goes By (Boy Meets World), Film Noir, Gumshoe, M/M, Post-Episode: s2e13 Girl Meets Semi-Formal, Soulmates, Wee Hawkin Willie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roomiesforlife/pseuds/roomiesforlife
Summary: "....he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing in his life… Much like Alice falling down the rabbit hole to find her Wonderland, Eric found himself dozing off into his own alternate dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind, one that he has visited before."
Relationships: Jack Hunter/Eric Matthews (Boy Meets World)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Something's Missing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot I came up with after watching one of my favorite BMW episodes "As Time Goes By" [7x20] and one of my fave GMW episodes, "Girl Meets Semi-Formal" [2x13] (which is sadly the only time Jack ever made an appearance in GMW). I'm really proud of this story, it took me about a month to finish it since it's the first piece of writing I've done completely on my own (I usually co-write stories with a close friend of mine which is always a treat, but I wanted to challenge myself).
> 
> Although it's not a requirement, I do highly recommend you watch (or re-watch) the BMW episode this one-shot was inspired by. I do make a lot of references and jokes to that episode among other ones from BMW and GMW. You get all the kudos if you pick up on any of them lol!
> 
> Lastly, the song "Something's Missing" by Sheppard served as another source of inspiration for this fic. A lyric from the song itself is used as a quote in the very beginning of this fic. I recommend you listen to the song in its entirety, it's beautiful. Here's a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rg-3a6Hy-yc
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this short fic! And, as always, leave a kudo or a comment sharing your thoughts. They really do make my day :)
> 
> Sincerely,  
> boymeetshitposts

**_“_ _If only I could feel complete. A puzzle with a missing piece, gets locked away and buried underneath._ _”_  
_\- Sheppard_ **

* * *

Although their reunion was unexpected and rather strained, Jack Hunter still lingered in Eric Matthews’ mind - whether he wanted to admit it or not. After a busy day of senatorial duties, Eric often spent his evenings curled up on the couch watching black and white detective shows with a tall glass of his favorite chocolate milk cocktail. 

Since he was a teenager, the guys in fedoras, the beautiful femme fatales, the handsome debonairs in expensive suits, along with the various eccentric characters always captivated him. It was a dream of his to be a secret agent, a good looking one to be more specific which didn’t quite work out. But that didn’t take away from the fact that he loved being a Senator. He had found his calling in life. 

However, for a long time, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that _something_ was _missing_ in his life… 

Much like Alice falling down the rabbit hole to find her Wonderland, Eric found himself dozing off into his own alternate dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind, one that he has visited before.

_Rory’s Shangri-La, the place has changed a lot since ol’ Gumshoe was last here. These days it goes by the name of “The Purple Cat” and it happens to be run by “The Purple Cat” herself - Ms. Riley Matthews. But, to me, she’s “niche”._

_Just in case you forgot, I’m the local Gumshoe. And, yes, that’s gum... on my shoe, but it’s gotten stale._

_Riley’s Purple Cat maintained the charm of its predecessor, though, the style of the joint was more reminiscent of a club straight out of a 1960s James Bond movie. Long gone was the 1940s Casablanca aesthetic in favor of rock n’ roll, mods, go-go dancers, and kooky splashes of color. And lots, and I mean lots, of purple._

_The characters of The Purple Cat also changed._

_Ella Fitzgerald Kennedy, now in her late 50s, still sang her not-so-good songs. A lot of “oldies” from when it was still Rory’s. Most likely to appeal to a more nostalgic audience or ‘cause she never bothered to learn new tunes. Who knows?_

_At Shangri-La nobody cared, and I’m sure that same sentiment applied today._

_Isaac still gave “Good Shots” at the bar - he was gone for nearly 13 years but once he came back he hasn’t left. I think he’s finally found a home here. Good for him._

_Old Fez-head and Costello clung together like cling-wrap…and people still talked, but they learned to ignore it._

_Angel Nuff Said no longer served…well, I should say, dropped dishes. Last I heard, she moved abroad and we haven’t heard from her since. I think she and Isaac chit-chat over the phone on occasion._

_Angel’s replacement was a petite blonde who often spoke in a southern accent and would randomly show off her acting skills. She was quite… theatrical to say the least._

_Ah, Trixie - I remember that dame. She definitely turned this place upside down when she first arrived here. Eventually, she found herself, settled down with Rory, and had two adorable kids: Riley and Auggie._

_And then there’s Rory himself. I’d say fatherhood made him a better man - he wasn’t the only soul at Shangri-La who was lost and in need of a lifestyle change. The patrons of the club still warmly greeted and raised their glasses at him whenever he stopped by._

_Little Auggie had the most unfortunate nickname ‘round here, we often called him “crybaby” and he never understood why. Anywho, while his older sister ran the joint, his job was to work the poker tables and sometimes took on the role of waiter and busser on busier days._

_My secretary no longer worked for me, she decided to devote her time and skills to the Peace Corps. We’re not as close as we once were but I kept tabs._

_And last, but not least, the club’s piano player was replaced with a blonde singer. She’s about the niche’s age and, boy, could she sing. She could even play various instruments._

_Truth be told, Wee Hawkin Willie’s disappearance has been a mystery for the last 15 years. The last anyone saw of him, he had stepped out for a break and never returned. Some say he got kidnapped, others say he disappeared in a “puff of smoke” and others feared the worst: that he was dead._

_That’s where I step in._

_It’s time to dust off the old trench coat and fedora and crack open this case… quite literally ‘cause I can’t seem to get the darn thing open!_

_I banged the briefcase on my desk a couple of times to see if it would budge but it was still jammed!_

_Oh well, I guess I’ll have to obtain information the old fashioned way - through cunning interrogation!_

_I decided to start with Ella, she was Willie’s co-worker for many years, after all. She was in the dressing room applying her make-up for the upcoming show._

_I took out a small notepad from my coat pocket and wet the tip of my pen, “So, Ms. Fitzgerald-Kennedy, tell me, when was the last time you saw Wee Hawkin Willie?”_

_She leaned back in her chair, deep in thought, “It was a night like any other, he was playin’ not so good while I tried to keep in tune with him. He complained about my singing being the problem and we had an argument. Next thing I knew, he left for his 15 minute break and I never saw or heard from him again. Musicians are so sensitive aren’t they? Such a neurotic hot-head, that one.”_

_“Hmm, you say you two had an argument? Very interesting,” I answered._

_“It’s really not, it’s something we did every night. What are you implying?” Ella said, reaching for a long, thin cigarette holder._

_“I just find it suspicious that he disappeared into the night after a heated exchange.”_

_Ella huffed at the accusation, “I can’t believe this! It was hardly a ‘heated’ exchange, it was nothing more than the usual artist's quarrel. It happens to even the worst ones!”_

_I flipped the cover of the notepad back to the front and then got up, “Thank you, Ms. Fitzgerald-Kennedy, that will be all.”_

_Ella shot me a displeased expression, but I knew better than to let anyone’s emotions get the best of me._

_I made my way to the bar and sat on one of the stools, “Hit me with your best shot, Isaac.”_

_He smirked, “I can make a mean piña colada if you’re up for it?”_

_I tapped on the bar, “Fire away!” and he started working his magic. In a matter of seconds, he prepared the drink and slid it to me. I took one sip and was immediately transported to a Caribbean paradise - it was a damn good drink._

_Isaac wiped down the counter with a somewhat smug look, “Glad you like it, pally. But I get the feeling you didn’t come all this way for small talk. What’s on your mind?”_

_I didn’t answer him right away. Instead, I continued enjoying my drink and took in the lively ambience of the place._

_Ella got on stage to sing a cover of Nancy Sinatra’s ‘These Boots Are Made for Walkin’. Everybody was snapping their fingers along to it and even I found myself doing it. The blonde singer, whose actual name always escaped me, or 'The Bomb’ as she was known around here, was also on stage. It became sort of a duet - but really ‘The Bomb’ stole the show with her impressive vocal range._

_The patrons got up to their feet and clapped when the performance ended. At the corner of the stage, stood Riley petting her purple cat, Violet, wearing a pleased expression. The only audience ‘The Bomb’ seemed to care for most was Ms. Riley, and her applause was all she needed._

_Turning my attention back to Isaac, I said finally, “I’ve got a lot on my mind, pal. But I’ve got a feeling you already know what it is.”_

_Isaac was now wiping some glasses, “Yeah, I do. I just wanted to get ya to admit it.”_

_“Leave the interrogating to me, ok?”_

_Isaac raised a palm up and then motioned for me to continue._

_I cleared my throat, “Alright, let’s get down to business. When did you last see Hawkin?”_

_Much like Ella, he too, had a faraway expression as he recounted his version of the tale, “Let’s see, I know he and Ella had their usual dispute, nothing off about that, it was just getting pointless and irritating. They both lacked any real talent. Anyway, Ella stormed off to the dressing room and Willie stepped outside for a smoke. And that’s all I remember.”_

_I quietly acknowledged what he said while recording the information down in my notepad._

_“I see... I wasn’t aware that he liked to smoke. He always seemed like a clean-cut type of guy to me.”_

_Isaac lightly chuckled, “Shows how little you knew Willie. There was a lot more to him than he let on, just sayin’.”_

_I raised an eyebrow, “Was?”_

_Isaac didn’t react to my suspicions and answered calmly, “I know your tricks, ace. And before you go callin’ the cops on me, Willie’s alive and well.”_

_“How do you know that? You just said that was the last you ever saw of him!”_

_“Easy there, tiger. It was the last time I_ **_saw_ ** _him, but not the last time I_ **_heard_ ** _from him. There’s a difference. He wrote to me a coupla of times over the years. Unless the dead can send letters, I’m gonna assume he’s still living.”_

_I huffed and wagged a finger at the bartender, “You and your darn semantics! I’d think you’d be above yankin’ my chain, Kelly!”_

_“S’all in good fun, bartender’s honor,” he said, putting a hand over his heart. And as if he read my mind, he then added, “And, no, I don’t know where he is. He never told me. Sorry I can’t be of more help to you.”_

_I grabbed my fedora from the counter and placed it back on my head, “Thank you for your time, Mr. Kelly.”_

_I stopped and turned for a moment, “Oh, and before I forget,” then tossed a half-dollar coin to him, “a tip for the great drink.” Kelly caught it and nodded appreciatively._

_The word “smoke” was underlined in my notepad, perhaps it could be a clue. My investigation led me to look beyond “The Purple Cat” and hit the streets of this sleepy town. I walked down the empty cobbled streets in search of a smoke shop._

_Through the fog, I could vaguely read a storefront sign with the word “smoke”. I checked both sides of the road before crossing, I had to keep a hand on my hat because a strong wind picked up. A little bell attached to the door signaled my entrance. A young, dapper man of about 18 or 19 stood behind the register._

_He gave a dimpled smile, “Hello, how can I be of service, sir?”_

_I tipped my hat to him, “Hi, yes, I’m in the middle of an investigation. My sources tell me the missing person liked to light a joint, so to speak.”_

_The young man’s eyes widened with excitement, “An investigation you say? Well, you’ve come to the right place then! This is Old Fezhead’s and Costello’s store but I help ‘em run it when they’re gone. I’m Joshua!” He stuck out his hand to me which I returned with a firm shake._

_“Indeed, Joshua. I’m looking for a missing piano player, perhaps you could shed some light on the matter?”_

_“Hmm, this might’ve been before I came on to the scene but I’ll try. Do you by any chance got a picture of him?” Joshua eagerly asked._

_“Sadly, I don’t. All of my photographs and other important papers are jammed in a briefcase in my office. But I do have a description, he’s a fairly short guy, lean, brown hair, brown eyes, bit of a neurotic whiny type of personality, with the singing voice of a crooner. Name’s Wee Hawkin Willie. Does any of that ring a bell?”_

_Joshua arranged some boxes on a glass display, “No, none of that rings any bells. He must’ve been here long before I got this job. I think you’d be better off asking the owners of his whereabouts.” He reached for one of the boxes from the display case and said in his best salesman voice,“Could I interest you in some Cuban cigars? They just got in today!”_

_“No, thanks, kid. I don’t smoke and don’t plan on it. I appreciate the help.”_

_“I hope you find your man!” Joshua called out as I headed out the door._

_Back in The Purple Cat, I scanned the room for those two stooges but they were nowhere to be found. I then approached Rory._

_“Any idea where Fez and Costello are?” I asked him._

_Rory embraced me and patted my shoulder, “Gumshoe! Pull up a seat will ya?”_

_“Uh, it’s nice to see you too. Look, I can’t stay and chat, I gotta know where those cats are.”_

_“Where’s the fire?” He joked._

_I answered in a low, but serious tone, “I’m on duty and I need to question them.”_

_“Let me guess? They got caught stealing all the candy from our jars again, eh?”_

_“No, this is an entirely different matter.”_

_Rory’s face tensed, “Oh, I see. Let’s see, they stayed for the show and then grabbed their coats. My guess is they likely went out for a bite. I’d try the small pub nearby.” He finished with a wink._

_I winked back._

_Golly, all this walkin’ around town was makin’ my dogs bark. I’m not sure if it was the dreary fog and rain messin’ with my mind, but despair began to consume me. I myself was starting to question why I even bothered taking on this poy-sen… uh, I mean case, in the first place!_

_While I stood on the corner of the desolate street getting drenched, it occurred to me that maybe Mr. Willie left in good conscience and simply didn’t want to be found?_

_After all, 15 years is a long time to go ‘missing’ and despite Kelly’s wisecracks, I trusted his word. In all my years of private detecting, I never once considered that the real case at hand was me._

_Why did I want to find Wee Hawkin Willie? What would I gain by finding him? How do I expect things to play out should he come back?_

_Those are the real hard-hitting questions that needed to be answered. But, I ain’t gonna lie, I was scared to dig up the truth. So much so, that I was willing to run myself in circles - kinda like those cool revolving doors I love so much._

_I re-evaluated the suspects list, there were still quite a few gents and dames that I had yet to interview. Through deductive reasoning, I narrowed them down._

_If Joshua didn’t know Willie, I highly doubt the niche or her friend would too, and Auggie’s just a wee baby. Angel had jumped ship before Hawkin disappeared and my secretary not too long after, so they couldn’t have had anything to do with it._

_I took a deep breath and dragged myself to the pub Rory mentioned. It was empty, as usual, and I could easily spot Fezhead and Costello huddled together at a table near the back of the room._

_Costello, who twirled his wispy moustache, greeted me first, “What is it now, Gumshoe?”_

_Fez had his arms crossed and a thick cigar dangled between his fingers, “Yeah, we ain’t stole anymore candy!”_

_I turned the vacant seat around and sat down, slightly leaning on the backrest. “That’s not what I’m here for,” I said flatly. They loosened up a bit and allowed me to continue, “Alright, I’ll skip the pleasantries and cut to the chase. When did you last see Willie?”_

_Simultaneously, they both cupped their chins with inquisitive expressions. They remained like this for a while, I almost wondered if they had frozen. The anticipation was kinda killin’ me, I even had to wipe beads of sweat from my forehead._

_All of that awkward silence just for them to answer nonchalantly, “No idea.”_

_Costello added, “I never liked that whipper snapper! Too uptight.”_

_I groaned in frustration, “Oh, gimme a break! You sold him smokes since he used to light up a joint during his breaks. You must know something! I’m gettin’ tired of chasing ghosts.”_

_Fez gave a snarky response, “If you really don’t like it, then don’t be wasting anymore of your time. Give it a rest, man.”_

_Costello chimed in with, “I don’t know why you’re flipping your wig over a mediocre piano player.”_

_This really got my blood boiling ‘causing me to stand up so quickly that the chair fell to the side._

_“Give it a rest!? A man is missing! He has been missing for a long time and you don’t care? What is wrong with you two?” I didn’t give those birdbrains a chance to speak and rambled on, “You know what? I’ve had it with this backwater town, I oughta book all of you for never giving a damn about anything that isn’t right under your noses.”_

_And with that off my chest, I blew this popsicle stand._

_Back in the office, I hung up my soaked coat and fedora on the rack. I sunk in my chair with a drink in hand, both feet resting on top of the desk. I lost track of how long I sat there, lost in a slew of never ending thoughts and emotions. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone’s back in their homes, living their little lives in blissful ignorance while a war ravaged within me._

_While I never considered myself an amazing detective, I could still go to sleep at night knowing I did a job well done. That I did everything I could to solve the case, not that I got many, but still. I guess this is just one case that will go unsolved and I feared that it would haunt me for many years to come. I hoped for a lucky break that would lead me to wrapping up this mystery in a neat bow, but it wasn’t comin’ and I had to accept defeat._

_I heard a sound coming from beyond the office walls. I finally got up to investigate what was up. My office led to The Purple Cat’s main room, but not a soul was there. Just as I was about to head back, I heard the sound of a stage light being switched on. I turned and all of a sudden the room went black. All that could be seen was the beautiful white grand piano in the center of the room._

_My heart began to race and my palms clammed up, I don’t know what kind of gag this was, but I ain’t laughing._

_“Rory, if you’re there, I promise I won’t give you a knuckle sandwich if you let me in on the joke,” I called out._

_Clearly, I was talking to shadows ‘cause I got nothing and as if things couldn’t get any weirder, the piano notes to a very familiar song began…_

**_This dame’s about to run amok, we’ve all run out of luck. And nothing’s ever gonna be the same again!_ **

_That last note reverberated throughout the empty club, sending chills down my spine. Suddenly, all the lights in the club flickered on. A young man wearing a white tux and black bow tie was sitting on the piano bench._

_I had to blink a few times just to be sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I also had to catch my breath because it was taken away by the sight of Mr. Wee Hawkin Willie himself._

_Breathlessly, I said, “W-Willie? Is that you?”_

_He flashed a toothy grin, “Nothin’ gets past you, Gumshoe.”_

_I slowly walked up to the attractive piano player, “15 years, Willie, and you still look no older than 20!” I then looked down at my own aged figure and stomped rather childishly, “Ah, man! No fair!”_

_Willie simply laughed, “It’s all in your head, man," he placed two fingers on the side of my head._

_“I don’t understand? You’re not actually here?”_

_“I am here, but all of this,” he pointed at his youthful features, “is how you remember me as.”_

_As crazy as it was to see him at this moment, I couldn’t dispute that. Come to think of it, this whole situation didn’t make much sense. But none of that mattered because I was over the moon to see Willie again._

_I took off my fedora and left it on top of the piano. Willie cheekily took it and put it on his head. I smiled, “It looks good on you.”_

_“I know,” He playfully winked, “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.”_

_“I’ve got a lot of questions on my mind but I just want to enjoy the moment. I don’t know how long it’ll last… it all feels like a dream. One that I don't want to wake up from.”_

_“Then don’t,” He said with the utmost confidence._

_I was taken aback by the comment, “I’ve got to someday.”_

_“Let me put it another way, it doesn’t have to end here. If you really want this to be your reality, you can. The only thing that’s keeping it from coming true is your heart.”_

_I snorted, “My heart? I can assure you the old ticker’s fine.”_

_“Nah, man. You’re not getting it, you have to open your heart again ‘cause you’ve been hurtin’ you know? It’s an emotional thing.”_

_“I still don’t understand. I’ve never had any trouble loving others, I think my problem is I love too much.”_

_“And it’s one of the best parts of you, Gumshoe. Don’t ever change that.” Willie got up from the bench and took a few steps away. He turned to me and responded cryptically, “The choice is yours, make it a good one.”_

_“Wait!” I followed him as he walked out of the club, “Where are you going?”_

_“I’m waiting for the cab,” He answered, waiting under a streetlamp, “I’m goin’ home, you should too.”_

_Soon enough, a yellow cab pulled up. But before he got in, he gave me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, “It was really great seeing you again, pal. Take care!” He got into the cab and waved to me from the window._

_All I could do was wave back and watch him disappear in a thick curtain of fog._

_There was a sharp ringing in my ears, I placed a hand over each of my ears to block out the noise but only increased its intensity…_

Eric Matthews was jolted awake by the sound of the alarm on his phone. He must’ve fallen asleep on the couch since his back felt stiff as a board. He turned off the TV and got up to pour himself a glass of water.

After drinking some water, he went to wash-up and get ready for work. Though, he had a strong urge to take the day off. Nonetheless, he continued with his morning routine.

During his lunch break, he decided to give his younger brother, Cory, a call. 

“Yello! This is Mr. Matthews speaking, how can I help you?”

“Hey, Mr. Matthews. This is also Mr. Matthews,” Eric joked.

“Let me guess the one with the good hair?” Cory joked back.

“Bingo! So, how are you?”

“I’m doing peachy-keen, how about you?”

“Peachy-keen?

“I’m in an old-timey feely kinda mood, whatever that means.”

“Funny enough, so am I,” Eric said, though his tone suggested he had more to say. Luckily, Cory picked up on it.

“Care to elaborate within the next…” He paused, “10 minutes?”

“I’ll keep it under five minutes, I had the dream again.”

“About the piano player?”

“Yep.”

He made a low whistle, “That’s the third one this week. Ya still wanna tell me it ‘means nothing’?”

“Cor, I’m not ready to talk to him again. When I saw him last week, he wasn’t the same Jack Hunter I once knew.”

“Are we talking about the same one? ‘Cause all I saw was a guy who really missed his best friend. But, hey, we see life through a different lens. You sure yours isn’t a bit… tainted?”

Eric rolled his eyes, “My lens isn’t ‘tainted’, it’s perfectly colorful as always.”

Cory simply responded, “You know what I mean.”

Eric sighed, “Is this the part where I ugly sob and tell you how hurt I am? ‘Cause it’s not gonna happen. I’m a big boy.”

“No, this is the part where you admit that you are hurt and that you're willing to forgive him. But what do I know? I’m just the little brother.”

“Cor, there’s no need to knock yourself down like that. I care about your opinion, this is just really hard for me.”

“You’re not the only one who lost a close friend for many years, but we managed to work things out. You can do the same.”

Eric could hear the sound of kids talking in the background, “Thanks for being there for me, we’ll talk more later ok?”

“Alright, you’re off the hook for now. But you should be expecting a call from me this evening.”

“Yes, Mr. Matthews. Have fun with the kiddos and teach them good stuff.”

“Always or I’m gonna have to find a new profession.”

Eric laughed a bit before ending the call. Despite being the little brother, Cory’s grown to be quite the wise man.

Eric Matthews knew he had to face Jack Hunter someday. He was, after all, the very “something” that was missing in his life.


End file.
